Honky

Dalton Conley effectively utilizes the tools of specific detail, imagery, and shifting perspective from a wide angle to close up; however, his usage of syntax is less effective. Conley consistently crafts unique passages by including one or two memorable and interesting details. For example, in Conley’s explanation of his father’s previous job scraping paint off Korean paintings, he describes the artwork vividly: “the soldiers had huge, round eyes; some were crying equally huge, round tears, which splashed onto their combat boots as they stared longingly at the viewer with homesickness” (33). The special detail Conley inserts into his narrative often is an image used to express an emotion or idea. He uses the simile: “the beads…looked like colored gnats or lice that had infested her scalp,” to convey that the colored beads looked terrible in his sister Alexandra’s hair (41). Conley often switches from a wide angle to a close angle by writing a generic first sentence to introduce a scene, such as: “The second event happened to us and completely shattered my sense of our apartment as a fortress,” and then describing the scene or event in detail immediately afterward: “One weekend we went to visit my grandparents and left the kitchen window open…” (55). By employing the techniques of detail, imagery, and wide to close angle, Conley constructs well-crafted scenes of his memories throughout his memoir. Conversely, Conley’s lack of consistency in using varied syntax weakens the effectiveness of his memoir. While he does include several short, punchy sentences, like, “I was right,” most of the time the sentences in his passages are all of a similar length:“Initially my mother’s integrated carload didn’t encounter much resistance as they made their way through Virginia. Her main worry was how much weight she was putting on; the protesters were eating about eight meals a day. Most of the restaurant staff made them wait a while and didn’t smile or make eye contact, but they served them food just the same” (179 & 28).This lack of varied syntax creates a monotonous rhythmic loop throughout most of the book. Overall, though, Conley successfully retains the reader’s interest by incorporating riveting detail, imagery, and shifts in perspective into his writing.

Like the author, I am white and spent part of my childhood living in low income housing in a predominantly black and hispanic neighborhood. I found this memoir so fascinating I could hardly put it down. Like the author, I have often pondered the complex reasons why I was able to escape to middle class success from the world of poverty, hopelessness, and violence that almost all my elementary school classmates presumably still live in. The book is a funny and honest memoir of childhood with just a light dose of analysis from the author's standpoint as an adult sociologist. Conley's description of the "cultural capital" and other resources that fueled his escape to an easier life really fits with my experience. This is a short book, and its brevity makes it a quick, entertaining read. I agree with some other reviewers that brevity also causes it to lack material that would be a great interest to many readers. What were the feelings and motivations of his parents? I also agree that Conley could have talked more about the complex, positive aspects of black family life that contrast with practices in white families, since his experiences should put him in a rare position to comment on this issue. I well remember the experience of being at a birthday party in the home of a black friend in second grade, sitting in a warm embrace on the lap of his grandmother, and realizing that the exuberant, loving, multigenerational family atmosphere there was a striking contrast to that in my family.

I understand why some reviewers are frustrated. Conley IS self-indulgent and paints an extremely one-sided picture of the neighborhood outside his window. Those things, for the most part, frustrate me too. BUT. As a graduate student that just finished my thesis on spoken/written narratives, let me tell you how difficult it is to find white people willing to engage race in relation to themselves -- anything after 1999 starts looking real dicey real quick. Of course he's going to mess up - but that just makes it more fun for me. Of course he's self-indulgent - he's an academic.The most frustrating thing to me is the degree to which his narrative is one-sided. The only character that seems fully formed, besides himself, is Gerome and that only seems to be to make a complete circle compositionally. This self-induglent academic is a sociologist He is paid to observe. Come on, man! Observe!

Dalton Conley did not just write this book, he lived this book. The sociology professor tells the amusing story of his childhood in a section of New York's low income housing as the only white family in his building.Conley does an excellent job restating the era in which he grew up. He acurately states the fashions and music of the time. This alone is very amusing. However, his experiences are an excellent sociological barometer. Because of his skin color, he becomes the outcast in many situations. He develops friendship in spite of his color. He also experiences many of the problems in low income housing including being robbed, having a friend shot, and being held at knife point. His stories are set to the background of his hippy parents who located in the neighborhood to help their lives as artists. This story makes excellent fiction, but it actually happened.The book is an easy read. I had trouble putting the book down as I found it so interesting. Regardless of your skin color, this book has a lot of valuable insights.